


Adrahil's Family

by Susana Rosa (SusanaR)



Series: Desperate Hours Alternative Universe (DH AU) D version [7]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brotherhood, F/M, Family Secrets, Gen, Spanking, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-06-24
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 16:41:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SusanaR/pseuds/Susana%20Rosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short stories about Faramir's Dol Amroth family, in the DH AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Adrahil's Family

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Kaylee for correcting my repeated and unending misspelling of poor Ivriniel's name. Thanks to KC for letting me use her lovely characterization of Adrahil as a troublesome youth, who grew into the old Sea-Fox of Dol Amroth. And for her vision of Angelimar as a long-suffering father.
> 
> The prologue is set in Fourth Age Year 4 or 5. The main action of the story ranges during the life times of Prince Adrahil's children, the birthdates of which I have changed slightly for DH AU purposes.

Princess Ivriniel of Dol Amroth deftly portioned an orange, giving one slice to her great-nephew Alphros, one slice to her great-niece Theodwyn, one slice to the young Crown Prince of Gondor and Arnor, Eldarion...who was her nephew Faramir's half-brother. Whose father, Elessar Telcontar the King, did not seem to care that Faramir was a bastard. Elessar...or Aragorn, as he preferred to be called, had acknowledged Faramir, despite the damage it did to Finduilas,' Denethor's, and Denethor's father Ecthelion's reputations, not to mention his own. Ivriniel stifled a sigh. Her relationship with Faramir had always been...difficult. Perhaps because she was a woman of honor, and he was a bastard, and Ivriniel had known that since attending upon her sister Finduilas, at Faramir's birth.

"Since your family is my family, now," The young Crown Prince Eldarion asked Ivriniel, "Would you tell us a story, about growing up in Dol Amroth?"

Princess Ivriniel stared at the boy who would one day be King, her King.

Stifling a sigh of frustration, Imrahil offered, "Ivriniel looks busy...ah, preparing snacks, Eldarion. I will tell you a story of...the Dol Amroth side, of your brother's family."

As Imrahil began his story, Aragorn moved towards Faramir's aunt, an intent look in his gray eyes.

"Please, Sire, leave it alone." Faramir pleaded.

Aragorn turned back to his older son, intending to discuss the matter, but not to change his mind, when both heard a dreaded sound.

"Ah, Princess Ivriniel." Arwen the Queen said softly, diamonds of ice in her tone, "Just the person I wished to speak to."

Aragorn chuckled, "It's out of hands, now, ion-nin." Gently taking the pale Faramir's arm, Aragorn ordered kindly, "Let us join our children, and hear your uncle's tale."

Faramir winced, but allowed himself to be led to sit beside his young daughter on the grass, with Aragorn seated between he and his half-brother Eldarion, who was only two years older than Theodwyn.

Imrahil smiled at them all, much less uncertain about this business than his sister. But then, Aragorn, then called Thorongil, had always been a friend to Imrahil.

Adrahil's Family (Or the Old Sea Fox and his Children)

Most of his court was disappointed when the Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth's long-awaited first child was born a girl. Adrahil was not. He loved Ivriniel, called Rinie, from the first breath she drew, proud little scrap of flesh that she was. She was born with her mother's blond hair, kissed with red highlights like the waves at sunset, and imperious gray eyes.

"Thank you for being the only other man here is who is happy." Adrahil had remarked, briefly but sincerely, to his father, the Prince Angelimar.

Angelimar had smiled at his new granddaughter as he answered. "I don't know if I'm quite ready for a son of yours yet, son-of-mine. I barely survived your own young adulthood. So far as I can tell, it ended about a year ago."

"Thanks." Commented Adrahil wryly, nearly 60 when his first child was born.

"You'll understand when you do have a son of your own, if he is anything at all like you." Angelimar had explained, voice full of love for the brilliant sailor and inveterate womanizer and problem-seeker who had been the source of the most joy and trouble in his life.

The heir to Dol Amroth was nearing 70 when his second child was born, also a girl. Finduilas, as sweet and ethereal as her older sister was proud and practical. Finduilas, of the green eyes and red-gold hair, whose first words to her father were a warning that he must not sail that day. Adrahil, a seasoned  
old campaigner, had looked at the solemn eyes of his toddler, and had been stirred by a foreboding he did not understand. The sea-fox did not sail that day. None of his fleet did, nor the merchant ships, and the fishing fleet was warned to stay in as well. Several of Adrahil's admirals teased him, and the merchants and fishermen grumbled, but Angelimar the ruling Prince was grateful. Premonitions ran in their line, and his second granddaughter Finduilas showed early signs of them.

There was a terrible storm that came the afternoon of that day, blackening the sky to midnight dark when it should have been mid-afternoon bright. Bits and pieces of wreckage from those ships that had ignored the heir's warning floated in with the morning tide. Rinie, wearing her father's cast-off old clothes, helped Adrahil and his navy to assess the damage to the sand bars that protected the fisheries and oyster harvesting nurseries in the Bay of Belfalas. The heir and his young daughter became a common sight in those days, helping the shore communities rebuild from the damage caused by the great storm.

"Ivriniel will do for Dol Amroth, if I have no son." Adrahil had argued to his father for the first time, coming home from a rescue of a collapsed pier in the wake of that storm. His twelve year old daughter had been steady and unpanicked, as if she was an old hand at plucking half drowned people from the wreckage. She had not faltered once. Grown men and sailors of his, Captains of many years, had  
not done as well.

Angelimar had sighed. Dol Amroth had never been inherited through the female line. "Perhaps." Was all he said, though, if one had to have a girl as an heir, practical, diligent Inviriel was not a bad choice. Far better than Finduilas would be, who was barely able to distinguish the real from the spirit. It was not his younger granddaughter's fault, and her dubious gift had saved Angelimar's son and much of his fleet. But he hated to see a grandchild of his so afflicted so young by the visions and foresight that sometimes ran in their line. He remembered his kinswoman Anelis, who had never been able to marry or have children, and he wanted a kinder fate for little Finduilas, who had a sweet smile even though the things she saw, waking and asleep, were frightening enough to scare grown men. They could be sure of this, for Finduilas had started to keep her own vision journal as a toddler, drawing with clumsy chalk images of armies of monsters oppressing their land, blackening their airy sea-side castle, and enslaving their people. The princely family of Dol Amroth went through five different nurses at that time, before they finally found one steady enough to handle Finduilas evenhandedly, without fright.

Finduilas' blessing of a nurse, soon called Miri by everyone in the family, was the widowed sister of one of Adrahil's very talented sergeants, and the heir sponsored all of the family's sons to Dol Amroth's naval academy in thanks. As the years rolled by, and Finduilas grew into a precocious child, Angelimar began to resign himself to the idea that he would never have grandsons. He was disappointed, but philosophic. Perhaps Middle Earth was simply not ready for a son of Adrahil. The old Prince wasn't sure he was, either.

When Finduilas was eight and Rinie eighteen, a male heir was at last born to Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. Imrahil, they called him, and a more placid babe none could recall. Imrahil was clever without Finduilas other-worldliness, and self-contained without Ivriniel's sometimes excessive pride. He was everything a Prince could want in an heir, if perhaps a little too quiet. But the young Imrahil enjoyed swimming and swordplay and sailing as well as scholarship, so the quietness was not unwelcome by his grandfather Angelimar, himself a noted scholar. Angelimar did not think it was fair that Adrahil's only son should be a young diplomat and a sage, but he supposed it was better than the terrifying alternative of a young Adrahil come again, perhaps enhanced by Ivriniel's stubbornness and Finduilas' visions. What a terrifying combination that would make.

Ivriniel and Finduilas loved their younger brother. Finduilas with a child's simple welcome, complicated by her occasionally cooing to Imrahil of the lovely future he might have. The family was unbelievably relieved that Finduilas wasn't predicting death and destruction for the new-born. While the family and nurse Miri kept a close eye on this developing relationship, Finduilas seemed to have the mother-sense to edit herself around a baby, even at such a young age. Angelimar breathed a sigh of relief, for Anelis had never been able to do so. Perhaps a normal life was possible for Finduilas after all.

Rinie's love for Imrahil was no less, but his birth did leave the older princess at loose ends. For several years, she had been groomed as the heir. The teenage princess wasn't quite sure what to do with herself as a mere oldest daughter. Her parents and grand-father were sensitive to this, and let the young woman try her hand at anything that might appeal. Invriniel chose to study ship-building, and made that her profession. In time, she was to become one of Dol Amroth's more talented ship wrights.

When Adrahil's children were twenty, ten, and two, Gandalf the Grey made one of his occasional visits to Dol Amroth. Adrahil had been one of the Wizard's agents for a good portion of his youth, and Gandalf was hoping (as Angelimar had not hoped) that Adrahil might have produced a son rather like himself. The Ithron was not interested in ship-wright daughters or easy-going toddlers, and was preparing to make a quick exit, when he met Finduilas. "Hmm" the Wizard had said, staying in Dol Amroth for several weeks. Gandalf had still been in residence, training Finduilas to be his research assistant, when a foul wind from far away blew into the Bay of Belfalas. Finduilas had stiffened, and then spent that night walking around the edges of the castle, humming to herself in an old, old language. That wasn't what had bothered Adrahil. It was that his daughter had first cut her bare feet, and that she had left a slight trail of blood around the inside of the old sandstone structure. The nurse Miri had clucked over the state of her poor charge's feet, but neither Finduilas nor Mithrandir would let anyone wash the blood away until the morning, when the wind had died. The night that the foul breeze blew, many sickened of a strange plague, but only those who carried the blood of Numenor. Many died, but no one who had spent that night in Angelimar's castle. Mithrandir had been enchanted by Dol Amroth's strange young Princess, and had vowed to return.

On Gandalf's next visit to Dol Amroth, when Finduilas had been a teenager, the Wizard planned the marriage of Adrahil's middle daughter to the son of Gondor's Ruling Steward. Angelimar tolerated Gandalf's interfering in his family with good grace, as the Wizard had intervened to request Adrahil's services at a time when the old Prince had nearly despaired of his heir. It was Adrahil who had  
pitched a fit, not wanting either of his daughters to marry into Gondor, but particularly not Finduilas, who saw the shadow clearly from Dol Amroth's sun-drenched shores. Though he liked the promising young Captain Denethor well enough, Adrahil knew something of what it would cost Finduilas to live in Minas Tirith, and he did not want his daughter to have to pay that price.

When Finduilas was twenty, she took that choice away from her father. It was the first time Finduilas had put her foot down about anything, and that she could be as stubborn as Rinie when she made up her mind shocked her family. They had no choice but to acquiesce. Finduilas nearly did not make it to Minas Tirith, as a sudden, unseasonal storm had come up fast. But the young captain of their vessel, her old nurse Miri's nephew Telemnar, had laughed and steered his ship straight through the storm. Imrahil traveled with his sister to Minas Tirith, and developed a serious case of hero worship not only for Captain Telemnar, but also for his brother-by-law Denethor, and Denethor's best friend Captain Thorongil. Finduilas quickly became fond of Denethor and Ecthelion, but she missed Dol Amroth with the longing of a transplanted tree, now embedded in the wrong soil. Finduilas, like her siblings, had the rhythm of Belfalas' seasons in her blood. The mild winter, when the migratory birds came to feed. The gentle, fragile spring, when the wind felt like a promise and smelled of green things as well as brine and marsh. The long, hot, summer, when the airy castle by the sea was the best place to wait out the afternoon's haze. The fall and the harvest, when the hurricanes came, and Finduilas, like Rinie, would wear men's clothes and help to guide the ships in during sudden storms, for all of Adrahil's  
children were bonny sailors.

The young, home-sick Finduilas was comforted by her friendship with Thorongil, who, like her, was a relative new-comer to Minas Tirith. The young Captain was similarly baffled by the various rituals and formalities which were peculiar to Minas Tirith, and still followed there faithfully, though they were forgotten throughout even most of rest of Gondor. Denethor patiently if teasingly played tour guide for both his new wife and his best friend, and both understood the society in which they had landed much better for his expert tutelage. Ecthelion, so long a widower, delighted in having a gracious young daughter-in-law in his house, and treated Finduilas and Thorongil like the other children he had not been blessed enough to have. Both Denethor and Thorongil, as young Captains of Gondor, spent much time away from Minas Tirith, about their military duties.

Finduilas spent much of this time in the library, or explaining her research to her new father-by-law, who whole-heartedly approved of trying to find other ways, through books and lore, to oppose Sauron and Mordor. Denethor and Thorongil often spent their evenings on leave drinking in various of the city's taverns. Finduilas was mostly patient with this behavior. Young soldiers were expected to drink - she knew her father had. But when her young husband and his best friend arrived home at 3 a.m., loudly serenading the newly-pregnant and very weary Finduilas with a raunchy ballad in her honor, the best the lady was able to summon was disgusted tolerance. She scolded them both fiercely the next morning, and they sheepishly promised not to wake her again in such a manner.

 

Denethor tolerated his wife's scholarly pursuits with the same amused resignation with which Finduilas viewed his drinking. Thorongil, on the other hand, would visit her in the library and remind her to eat, and listen intelligently when Finduilas explained what she had learned that day, or the current course of her investigations. Thorongil would also ask intelligent questions, particularly about the more military aspects of what Finduilas was finding. Her friend explained that, while no scholar himself, he had grown up in a house of scholars he loved well. Finduilas had been glad to hear that, for Thorongil was very reticent in describing his past, though she saw sometimes the shadow of a lovely dark haired woman, looking lovingly at her friend. Finduilas wished them well. The swan princess rather thought she could become friends with Thorongil's mysterious lady with the soulful eyes, and hoped Thorongil would bring his love to Minas Tirith someday. Finduilas had few female friends.

Finduilas was also cheered by frequent visits from her brother Imrahil. The young, teenage Swan Knight showed a great deal of promise, as diplomat as well as soldier and sailor. Both Denethor and Thorongil took to the young brother of their wife and good friend, and the young Imrahil could frequently be seen in their company, whether training or carousing. Not long before Boromir was due, Finduilas had to amend her earlier instructions with regard to drunken serenading to an embarrassed, sore, but not apologetic Denethor and Thorongil. "If your other idea is to tie a loudmouth sergeant to the outer tower of the citadel," She scolded her squirming husband and friend, "then by all means, wake me up with your inebriated caterwauling! Of all the idiocy - what if Imrahil had been with you!"

Fortunately, the young Prince had been keeping his very pregnant sister company that night. But Imrahil did not disapprove of what his role models had done. On the contrary, Imrahil felt that any idiot who made his sister cry by spewing off about how the madwoman from Dol Amroth was so crazy she would eat her own children probably deserved a much worse fate. He had told Thorongil, who had told Denethor, and one thing had led to another. Ecthelion, once belatedly apprised of the situation, had just transferred the loud-mouthed fool into Dol Amroth's navy. Adrahil was only too happy to re-educate the man. Imrahil thought it was unfortunate for his brother-by-law and Thorongil that they had been caught in action by Ecthelion rather than Adrahil. Adrahil might have let them off with a sound tongue lashing, as Imrahil's father had acted on much, much worse ideas than just tying an idiot to a really high tower. Much worse.

Rinie didn't visit Finduilas in Dol Amroth, not even when Boromir was born and Finduilas was very sick. Rinie didn't like to travel, which is why it was a family joke that Mithrandir had picked Rinie as a good candidate to marry the King of Rohan. Rinie also hated horses. Adrahil had joked with a friend of his who was a Rider that Dol Amroth would just have to owe Rohan a Princess, because Rohan wasn't getting Rinie. Adrahil wasn't about to marry a daughter who wanted to stay in Dol Amroth away; he'd been reluctant enough to let Finduilas leave. When his poor middle child had such a difficult birth, the old Sea Fox longed for nothing more than to travel to Minas Tirith and care for her. Fortunately, Imrahil was there, and Adrahil could trust his son. The boy was always level-headed.

Still, Imrahil was young. So when it came time for Imrahil's first cruise as a captain in the treacherous waters near Umbar, Adrahil asked to borrow Thorongil from Ecthelion. Technically, Imrahil's commanding officer was the brilliant but somewhat erratic newly-made admiral Telemnar, but Gondor and Dol Amroth were conducting a number of joint exercises, and Adrahil wanted someone a bit  
steadier looking after his only son. Thorongil agreed, and for the most part was enjoying working with the strategic genius Telemnar and his young protégée Imrahil. Then Denethor asked Thorongil to take a brief detour to see to a matter for Gondor, and Thorongil left Temnar and Imrahil on their own for a few days.

When they rendezvoused less than a week later, Imrahil's normally well-handled ship almost rammed an enemy vessel during a skirmish. To Thorongil's considerable shock, apparently Telemnar had felt inspired to set fire to the slave guild in Umbar, after first releasing all of the slaves. And apparently level-headed, easy-going Imrahil had felt inspired to help Telemnar smuggle those slaves out of Umbar, including giving several berthing on his ship, despite their not knowing an anchor line from a drag net. "Imrahil, you young idiot," Thorongil had explained to his friend the scholar's beloved younger brother, "Once you have already let your commanding officer torch a mercantile establishment in a city with whom WE WERE NOT CURRENTLY AT WAR,"

"Not a declared war," Imrahil muttered mutinously, as Thorongil gaped at him in astonishment. After a suitable interval during which Thorongil explained to the confused young Prince why one did not talk back to a superior officer during a dressing-down, Thorongil continued "Be that as it may, once you had already made those mistakes, you should have COME TO ME with your little problem of hundreds of slaves to hide, and we could have figured out a better way than HAVING THEM REPLACE TRAINED SAILORS. No, I do not care that the trained sailors in question were enemy spies. I may care later."

A few nights later, Thorongil went looking for Imrahil with a question about promoting one of the few former slaves who had proved a capable sailor, a man named Arnaut, formerly of Dol Amroth before he was captured by slavers in a raid. To his surprise, Imrahil had been nowhere to be found. Likewise, Telemnar. Thorongil did not know whether he was relieved or horrified to learn that the reason for this absence was Imrahil's unapproved marriage to Telemnar's younger sister Lorias. After this series of unfortunate occurrences, Adrahil found someone else to ride herd on his son, who had apparently inherited more from the old Sea Fox than had been here-to-fore suspected. Though he did keep Thorongil on as a commander in his fleet, as that part, at least, the former Captain of Gondor had handled well.


	2. A Path Not Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The paths we refuse to take define us just as much as the roads we do decide to walk, as Finduilas learns to Mithrandir's relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Set when Finduilas is eleven years old.
> 
> "It is long since the people of Nimrodel left the woodlands of Lórien, and yet still one may see that not all sailed from Amroth's haven west over water."
> 
> \- From the account of Legolas, upon meeting Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, in Tolkien's The Return of the King.

Finduilas of Dol Amroth was eleven years old.

In her dreams and visions, she was different...older, more powerful. Sometimes she was twenty years old, sometimes thirty and seven. Very rarely, she was much older, eighty-five years old, or a hundred and seven, or even three hundred and twelve. Those dreams were strange. For even with what she'd given up to be more normal in Galadriel's glade, Finduilas knew that she would usually die young.

Her much older selves, they told her that she could be more powerful. Just as powerful as if she'd never made the decision to trade power for normalcy.

Finduilas' father was late, late coming back with his fleet. Finduilas had had no luck, scrying out his fate. And so, she was thinking about listening to those much older selves. Even though their words disturbed her.

Followed by two of Angelimir's household guards, Finduilas took the road that ran along the sea wall. The wind off the sea blew her braid and her skirts, and Finduilas stopped every ten yards or so. A slender, straight figure in a loose gown of pale Dol Amroth blue, Adrahil's younger daughter stood against the wind. Finduilas strained her eyes to look for any sign of their returning fleet, or even a bird carrying word of them to her grandfather and his officers, at the castle.

She saw no returning sails; no weary bird. Sighing, Finduilas climbed the hill in the opposite direction from her castle home. Nodding and smiling to those she knew and those who addressed her, Adrahil's daughter made her way to a purveyor of exotic pets.

Her father had always said, that if you have a nefarious purpose in mind, it is best to act as if all is normal. Acting furtive only gives away that there is something amiss; act as if all is well. And have a legitimate purpose to justify your errand.

"I'd like twenty and two white mice, please." Finduilas told the youth at the counter. With a pained smile, she explained, "My little brother has acquired a fine pet snake, and he wishes to teach it to hunt."

The youth told her what a good sister she was, and set about collecting mice from one of several large cages into a wicker basket. Finduilas waited patiently. Imrahil really did have a new pet snake; he always had a new pet something. If the snake was diligently about the task of eating up castle pests by the time that their father arrived home, then that would certainly increase the chances that Adrahil would say 'yes' to Imrahil keeping the creature.

But Imrahil only needed twenty mice. Two were for a darker purpose.

Soon enough, Finduilas, the wicker basket with twenty-three mice (one was a bonus from the pleasant youth minding the counter), and her guards were headed back towards the castle. Finduilas had purposely chosen her nurse Miriel's free day, during which to go mouse-shopping. Miriel knew Finduilas better than most, and would know that she was unusually preoccupied.

"Your mice, Rahi." Finduilas handed the wicker basket to her younger brother Imrahil.

Imrahil grinned, and went off to teach Slither to mouse-hunt. Lorias, Miriel's violet-eyed niece, and her older brother Telemnar followed after him. Telemnar, a lieutenant in Adrahil's navy, was on leave, and seemed to like snakes just fine. Which was all to the good, since Lorias was one of young Imrahil's favorite people.

Finduilas had kept the three spare mice in a smaller basket in her room, with water and food and wood shavings. When the castle was quiet, she took them, and other materials, to a disused court yard.

Using memories from her future self, Finduilas encanted and sung, drawing a circle of power with her own blood. That was not dark magic...it was just her own essence, willingly given. Even a human death, a willing one, was just great power...it was not tainted by evil. A rare thing, for few would choose to die for a magic-working. But a pure one.

But the little mice...they could not choose this. Finduilas sighed, and picked one up. It wiggled it's little pink nose at her, and she put it back down. She cleaned up the courtyard, and took the mice back with her. She'd never wanted a pet mouse, let alone three. But she couldn't kill them for power. That path, she would not take.

A few days later, her father came home, and most of his fleet with him. They'd lost ships to a storm, and more to corsairs. Her father was thin, and in pain. Her grandfather told him not to go out himself again, but they all knew there was no choice. Imrahil was a toward child, but a child still. The last generations had not been kind to the family of Dol Amroth...there was no one else in the family to lead the fleet, and the Sea Fox's name still held magic. Not dark magic, nor magic at all in truth, but power of its own. Adrahil's fleet would come home because they always had, and men believed that.

Adrahil sighed at Imrahil's snake, but said that the boy could keep it. He did not even notice Finduilas' new pet mice.

Mithrandir did, though, on his next visit.

"Hmm." The old wizard said, peering closely at them.

Finduilas saw no point in lying about it. "I learned that there are things I will not do for power." She told him. And, apparently, she recognized to herself, taking an innocent life, however small and originally destined to be snake food, was one of them.

"That is...a good thing, my child." Mithrandir observed, kindness and pride and relief in his voice. "Else you might have become someone I would have to guard myself and my cause against, in years to come."

Finduilas was relieved, too. But she was also curious, "That's an interesting statement, coming from you." Finduilas nodded covertly towards Mithrandir's hand, specifically to the place where his one finger met his hand, the place that she could never properly see.

Mithrandir huffed a breath, amusement or amazement or exasperation, maybe all three. "His was a willing death. As I suspect you somehow know."

"I know." Finduilas replied, "It does not stain the air, that which you carry. Not like some of the jewelry worn by some of my future selves."

Mithrandir's interest sharpened, "Oh? What can you tell me, of that?"

Finduilas told him what she could, which wasn't as much as he wanted to know. Much of what Finduilas did or knew, she did or understood by instinct. Mithrandir couldn't learn like that, and it made him uncomfortable that she could.

"Time is not your plaything, my child." He scolded her.

"I am what you need me to be." Finduilas retorted levelly, "If I had not walked the paths I did, then I would be lost to my visions, and could never bear children for a man of Gondor, as you wish." It could also be said that if Mithrandir had not married her father to one of his own distant cousins, and her grandfather as well, that Finduilas might not have the power she'd been born with. Not the ones she gave up, or the ones she kept.

Chastened or maybe just saddened, Mithrandir regarded her with sympathy, "I would wish, for you and your siblings and your future husband, that you might be happy children."

Finduilas gave Gandalf a sad, sweet smile. "I hope that I might someday have happy grandchildren, even if I cannot live to see them."


	3. Tag-Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer that Faramir spent in Dol Amroth with his younger cousins and Dev when he was 12 years old was far from boring.

"Maybe you need help." A dear, young voice suggested.

Imrahil suppressed a smile, before turning to his eight year old son. "That's very good of you, Amrothos. But I have to finish reading over these reports so I can discuss them with Daerada, and they're really not suitable for someone your age."

Amrothos' lip quivered, and he got up, disconsolate, to leave. "Nobody ever wants me around because I'm too young. I'm too young for everything."

Imrahil immediately got up to follow, "Ai, Rothos, ion-nin, I know it's hard on you, having your brothers away for training, and Lothiriel away with her Aunt Rinie, but you'll soon enough be off with them, leaving your poor Ada and Nana. You won't be too young for long." The heir to the Princedom of Dol Amroth put a kind arm around his youngest son, turning Amrothos back to face him.

Amrothos kept his face down, and thought really sad thoughts. He looked up with tears shining in his eyes. "Oh, Ada, even Faramir and Dervorin don't want me with them tonight, because they got to go with Daerada to the market and he wouldn't take me."

Imrahil stiffened, thinking to himself that it was time for another talk with his own father. Whatever Adrahil was doing with 12 year old Faramir and 13 year old Dervorin in the market place, it either should be appropriate for an eight year old, or wasn't appropriate for his nephew and nephew's companion, either. "Well, I'm sure that they'll spend plenty of time with you over the next couple of months. Hasn't Faramir been talking about going camping again?"

Amrothos brightened. "Yeah, he has. And Dervorin's never been camping before, so he's really excited about it, too. He said that I could teach him how to build a fire, and pitch a tent, and set up water collection." Amrothos drew himself up with pride, at being the one asked for help, instead of the baby, always being told what to do.

Imrahil silently blessed Dervorin, despite having been rather frustrated by having to take in Faramir's friend for the summer, at first. Mostly it was because Boromir had complained about this particular friend of Faramir's for years, before suddenly stopping about two years ago, for reasons that none of them had ever been willing to share with their Uncle. Aloud, Imrahil offered, "How about you and I go to the kitchens, and get some biscuits and tea to take down onto the beach?"

Amrothos' eyes widened with delight, and he smiled, "Can we go swimming, Ada?"

Imrahil smiled back, "Maybe just for a little while. I do have your Daerada's reports to return to, after all."

Amrothos whooped with glee, and grabbed his Adar's hand, cheerfully leading Imrahil in the directions of the kitchens, and hoping he could keep his Adar busy long enough for Faramir and Dervorin to thoroughly search Imrahil's office and gather all the information Adrahil had directed them to find, then return everything back exactly as it had been so Ada wouldn't notice. After all, Amrothos had just convinced his Ada not to let Daerada do things with just Fara and Dev anymore without inviting Amrothos.

Amrothos didn't bother to hide his triumphant grin at that...Ada would think the smile was for biscuits and swimming, which Amrothos was also really happy about. Of course, Daerada hadn't told Amrothos to try to use Ada to include Amrothos in more of the training before Daerada was ready, but Amrothos thought Daerada would be impressed. It would be worth a smacking, even if Daerada wasn't impressed or amused enough to let Amrothos off the hook. After all, Adrahil's youngest spy-in-training had to do something to keep from being "too young" for anything interesting!

Late, late that night, long after they were supposed to be abed, Faramir, Dervorin, Amrothos and Lothiriel sat in their pajamas in their grandfather's bedroom, sipping sweet tea and eating biscuits. Well, everyone but Amrothos sat - he'd had to keep his Adar busy, so he'd swum out too far and gotten in trouble for it.

Adrahil shook his head at his youngest grandchild. "Sometimes, I think you're the most like me, you've just perfected charm rather than irritation as a strategy."

Amrothos grinned, "Now you've gotta take me with you to Umbar this summer, or you don't get to take Fara and Dev and Liriel."

Lothiriel shook her head, braids swinging, "And none of you have to put up with Aunt Rinie's 'I just don't know if I should be encouraging Ada to pull the wool over Rahi's eyes. He will be my Prince someday, you know.'"

Adrahil shook his head at his only granddaughter, to remind her that Ivriniel was only responsible for Rinie and not the boys because she was so uncomfortable around Faramir, for reasons no one understood. Lothiriel obediently changed the subject, "Daerada, can we see the sword dancers when we go to Umbar?"

Adrahil chuckled, "Only if we can find a really, really good excuse for why we're gone that long. Let's brainstorm. Faramir?"

Faramir took a sip of tea to wash down his full mouth of hazelnut biscuit, "Um. Uncle Imrahil and Aunt Lorias really like the idea of a camping trip, but Amrothos," Faramir paused to grin at his littlest cousin, "Has been keeping them very busy with his sad-and-alone-youngest-child act, so not only do they want some alone time, but Uncle Imrahil is also really behind on his work. Maybe say you want to take us for longer than normal, and invite Aunt Rinie as a chaperon for Liriel?"

"Good. I like that. Problems?" Adrahil asked, relaxing back in his comfortable armchair.

"Um." Dervorin commented, "Princess Ivriniel might snitch. No offense, Uncle Adrahil."

"None taken." Adrahil replied easily, pleased that Dev now felt comfortable enough to address him by the title Adrahil preferred, as opposed to Prince or Lord or sir. "Lothiriel, you've spent the most time with Rinie of late. Is she likely to 'snitch,' as Dev colloquially puts it?"

Lothiriel paused to think, twirling the end of one reddish-brown braid. "Not if you bribe her with more money for the ships she wants to build."

Laughing, Adrahil agreed, "I'll believe that. Now, how to get money. Faramir?"

Faramir gave his grandfather a rueful half-smile, "Are we to assume your treasury's empty again, for the purposes of this exercise?"

"Yes." Adrahil said firmly, though he reached out to ruffle Faramir's red-gold hair with a gentle hand.

"Um. Ok. Let's see...." Faramir paused, thinking.

"We could embezzle it from somewhere." Dervorin suggested bleakly.

Adrahil handed him a biscuit. "Eat and stop being silly. We live here; no crimes. Well, no real crimes. Well, no crimes with victims that leave lasting damage."

Dervorin laughed, and obeyed.

Faramir offered, "What about someone who would pay for the ships anyway? Doesn't the ship-wright's union pay someone for, um, patronage?"

"They pay an advocate to lobby for them at my court, yes. You suggest that if I suggest to him that payment be larger this year, as new ships might be approved with certain safety and technological innovations, that might be an effective course of action?" Adrahil gently guided.

"Isn't that extortion?" Dervorin wondered.

"No. It's bargaining, because they're willing to do it, even without the guaranteed return. Like me and Ada today." Amrothos said.

Adrahil snorted. "Well, extortion it may be, but they understand the game, and the lobbying and patronage system works better than many others. Such as complete autocracy. I think it's a potentially workable solution. Lothiriel, think about how I should word my request to the shipwrights' man. That will be tomorrow night's topic- now, my little mice, to bed with you all."

The four children scurried off with smiles and hugs for one of their favorite adults. Through the corridors and secret passages they went like mice, never suspecting that their Daerada had never wanted to turn them into spies, never wanted to teach them all of these skills so young. Never suspecting that it was all something Prince Adrahil had decided to do when Faramir was just eight years old, because it was the only way he could see to protect his two grandsons, who were Finduilas' sons, but more relevantly, Denethor's. Never knowing that Adrahil was both glad and sorrowful that his grandchildren were such close friends, the six of them, that he couldn't teach Faramir and Boromir without also teaching Elphir, Erchirion, Amrothos, even Lothiriel. And now Dervorin as well, because if anyone needed a loyal but sneaky friend, it was certainly Faramir.


	4. Handprints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pale Rohirric skin does not fare so well under Dol Amroth's hot sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This ficlet takes place when Eomer and Lothiriel are betrothed but before they are married, so perhaps a year after Faramir and Eowyn were wed.

"Just wear the sun cream, little brother." Faramir earnestly urged Eomer King. 

Hazel eyes narrowing, the King of Rohan refused. Only the women were wearing the sun cream, so Eomer stubbornly insisted that he did not need it. Faramir sighed and put some on himself. He didn't really need that extra protection from Anor's rays, but he hoped that it would make his brother-by-law see sense. 

Eomer's betrothed was more direct. Faramir's only female cousin Lothiriel simply dipped her hand in the sunscreen, and then smacked it down hard on her future husband's bare shoulder. 

Late that afternoon when they returned from sailing, Lothiriel's handprint stood out in brilliant white amongst the dark red of Eomer's badly sunburned back. 

Faramir was fond of his strong-minded young brother-by-marriage, and he dearly hoped that Lothiriel's point had been well made. By the way that Eomer shifted uncomfortably during dinner, Faramir rather suspected that his Uncle Imrahil, Eomer's future father-by-law, might have reinforced Lothiriel's lesson. Only instead of leaving a white handprint on Eomer's back, Imrahil would have left a series of red handprints on Eomer's formerly white bottom.


	5. My Only One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Finduilas' shopping trips are never efficient.

A four year old boy brandished his toy sword fiercely, yelling for the make-believe orcs of the lower marketplace to meet his blade. 

A lovely red-gold haired woman paused frequently in her selections and purchases, turning to glimpse the boy. Sometimes she would praise his footwork, or marvel at the sheer number of slain 'orcs.' Sometimes she would bid him to come closer, to stray not further into the street than she could see. 

He would listen, the blond little boy. At least until he forgot again, some five or ten minutes later. His mother would remind him, unperturbed, and so the shopping of the Lady Finduilas, the Lord Steward's wife, habitually continued. It generally concluded with a trip to the park, and some sweets (several of which were spilled on an attendant's dress), and Lady Finduilas' son Boromir slaying 'orcs' in the park by the fountain. 

"My Lady," Complained an attendant, "Our tasks would be easier to complete with young Lord Boromir's...assistance. And surely he would be more happy with his tutor, or at the Citadel, where the armsmaster would undoubtedly find some manner of indulging the young Lord's favorite game?" 

"No." Replied Finduilas. After a moment she added, "It is good for my son to get to know his people, the merchants and the craftsmen as well as the soldiers and the nobles." 

But later when they were alone, Finduilas confessed to Lindorie, her favorite attendant, "He is my only one. They only child that I will ever have. Soon enough Gondor will claim him for military training, but until then, I mean for us to have as much time to enjoy one another's company as we may." 

Lindorie held her lady's hand, and tried to comfort, "You might still have another, Finduilas. It is not impossible." 

Finduilas shook her head lightly, "Not without great danger. And I owe it to my son, and his father, not to risk my life and my place in their lives, not for such a low chance of a successful birth." Finduilas heaved a great sigh, "Unless that changes, or circumstances absolutely demand it, then Boromir is my only one. I love him, and I will share his joys and his companionship as often as I can."


End file.
